Just Another Day
by SevereArtisan
Summary: The life of a Imperial Agent is never normal and it is even less so when one has no name or designation and holds the key to the galaxy. Dangerous doesn't even begin to describe someone like this.


**Author's Note:**** Hey all! Still really busy in life which has only increased since school started recently. Life still doesn't look like its clearing up, so One Life Ends, Another Begins still won't be updated for awhile. This idea's been in my head for a bit and I just had to get it out. Will be a one-shot, and takes place after the ending of the Imperial Agent story in Star Wars: The Old Republic. If you're curious at what Wash's outfit is, it's full Rakata PvE gear.  
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**Well, hope you readers enjoy this crappy one-shot. Hopefully, I'll see you guys again soon in an update for my SI story.  
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**WARNING: Spoilers for the Imperial Agent story. Do not continue unless you've finished it and/or do not mind spoilers.  
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**Disclaimer: Star Wars: The Old Republic and its contents do not belong to me. They belong to Bioware/EA.  
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* * *

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_"Just another day in the life of a spy."_

Blake Alabaster, formerly Agent Washington and Cipher Nine sighed as he watched the cube float on his desk within the _Phantom, _rustling his unruly hair in frustration. It's been awhile since he was tired like this. Not physically, but mentally. The Black Codex lay before him. All the secrets of the galaxy laid before him and he had no idea what to do with it. It boggled his mind to no end. Such an annoyance.

The events of the previous week were still fresh in his mind. Taking down the Star Cabal, defeating Hunter in combat, and discovering the Black Codex...

Hunter.

He would never admit it in person, but he missed her dearly. She was the only one who could truly understand him. Just as he was the only one smart enough to keep up. Two sides of the same coin, and now one was dead.

After taking down the Star Cabal, he had returned to the Minister of Intelligence and attained true freedom by using the Codex to wipe out all records of himself. To quote the Minister, _"No more designations, not even a name. You're a ghost with enough secrets to blackmail half the galaxy."_

He had no identity save his birth name, but he would never utter it to anyone. And so, he truly was a ghost.

He had forgiven the Minister for implanting him with the Castellan restraints. At least, the logical side of him had. The Sith had obviously forced the Minister to implant him and he did so; to save his life. The only other option was his death. He had not only talked back to a Dark Lord of the Sith, but he had defeated him in single combat.

Darth Jadus. That man was twisted, brilliant, and evil. And most of all, he was powerful. He had never fought so hard in his life and he doubted he would ever encounter anyone stronger than him, save the Emperor. No one had been so tough. Not the Eagle, not Kothe, and not even Hunter.

It was pure, absolute miracle that he had survived, let alone WIN, and even though he had defeated Jadus, he did not have the means to kill him. The final result was Jadus trapped behind a energy field while the Eradicators wreaked havoc.

The events from Hutta to the Star Cabal forever scarred him and he would never be the same again. The brutal transformation of a cheerful, young, idealistic agent into a cold, hardened, calculating mastermind. Probably becoming a sociopath along with being slightly insane as well.

His train of thoughts were cut off by a familiar voice in the doorway, "You okay sir?"

The ghost sighed, "I'm fine Temple. Really."

"Well, you've been stuck in that room for two days non-stop with that thing," he heard her step inside. "You look like a mess. So no, I don't think you're fine."

"I didn't say you could come in, ensign," he growled quietly. "Go away. I need to think."

"Sir-"

She was cut off as he got up in one fluid motion and crossed the distance between them in two seconds flat. His icy, cold eyes glared into her meek, innocent ones. Innocence. He envied her for still having retained it whereas his was ripped away.

"Did I not make myself _clear,_ ensign?" the ghost spoke dangerously.

Temple gulped before nodding her head shakily, "I-I'm sorry, I was only concerned about you..."

Her eyes remained widened and he glared at her for only another moment before his eyes finally softened a bit and he sighed. He couldn't hurt her of all people. It would make him no better than his past adversaries, "Don't be. I should be the one apologizing. Listen, I'll be fine, but I need to think about things, alright?"

The ensign bit her lip, but she nodded, "Alright... Just... Just try not to give me a reason to worry."

"I should be saying that to you," he grinned. "Considering you're going with Kaliyo to a cantina for a girls night out."

"How did you-"

"Nothing happens on this ship that I don't know. Pretty amusing how she dragged you in," he interrupted, still grinning. "Have fun, but don't let her corrupt you."

"Oh I certainly won't. See you later sir." Temple saluted and left.

He grimaced. He had only returned here to Nar Shaddaa because it was a good hiding place. He was trained to hide in plain sight, and with his manner of clothing, he could do that literally within a crowd.

The ghost returned to the Codex and resumed his thoughts. He tapped a finger on the desk repeatedly, hoping something would come to his mind. Intelligence was both a gift and a curse for him. It had saved his life more times than he could count, but because of it, so much pressure fell on him. He had two brothers; one a Sith Lord, and the other a bounty hunter.

He chuckled. A former Cipher Agent, a Sith, and a mercenary. What a family. No one would suspect that they would all be linked together. No one would suspect that they were all working together towards a greater plan, and no one ever would since he had wiped out all files and records of himself.

A war was coming. A war greater than just Republic versus Empire, and he had to do his part to prepare for it. He was sure that his two brothers were already doing so in their own way.

Mercenary...

The word rang in his mind and a idea formed in his head on how to start preparing for the near future. He cursed himself for not having thought this sooner. The criminal underworld was like an untapped well, full of people who were formidable fighters. Both the Republic and Empire has had dealings, but they mostly avoided it. In fact, his mission of Hutta was the Empire's only major brush with the underworld.

With the right motivation, promises, and money, he could bring in many under his service. But that would be later. Right now, he was going to go straight for the big guns. He couldn't take the biggest yet however. The Hutt Cartel would remain out of his reach for now.

But with the Black Codex, he could make a strong start.

"Activate the Black Codex." the ghost spoke.

The cube flickered to life almost immediately, "Black Codex access detected. Scanning... Identity confirmed. Star Cabal databanks intact."

He recently read something on the Holonet. Perhaps it was only a rumor. He had dismissed it as such, but he had to be sure. If it was true though, it would indeed be a strong beginning to his plan.

"Load the file on Hylo Visz..."

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* * *

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The specter watched her enter the cantina, raising a eyebrow at her appearance. Ten years had passed and yet she looked like she had not aged a single day. Everything but that Holonet article pointed her as dead, and yet here she was. So the rumors were true.

Hylo Visz, the Mirialan smuggler who broke the Mandalorian blockade at the Hydian Way ten years ago was right there in front of him. The Star Cabal had held extensive information on her within the Codex, most of which was acquired after the event and he had taken the time to study it. After all, a successful spy is one who knows one's target.

He watched discreetly from a cantina booth a fair distance away, occasionally taking a drink out of the ale he had ordered. No one paid attention to her except for the bartender, who obviously knew her judging by his look. The two were chatting away, but they made sure not to draw any attention from the people around them.

The former agent continued to watch her until he finished his drink, grabbed his helmet, then proceeded to toss the bartender a credit chip as he left, muttering, "Thanks for the drink."

From the corner of his eye, he could see the bartender fumbling it in his hands as he caught it, causing him to chuckle slightly at the amusing sight.

Once he was out of the cantina, he made his way to a nearby alleyway, put on his helmet and drew up his hood, and leaned leaning against the wall as he waited for his target to come out. It took awhile, but his patience paid off as he saw her walk out. Patience was a virtue after all.

Like a shadow, he began to trail after her, walking with silent footsteps and slipping into the occasional crowd of people that would walk pass. They walked for a long time until finally there were no more people walking in the streets save the two. But he had remained hidden, and he slowly began to pick up the pace as they turned a corner. Hylo turned first, and the ghost did the same seven seconds later only to find his target gone.

Alarms blazed in his head, but he remained calm, somewhat smug even as he called out, "So... How long have you known that I was following you?"

Sure enough, he heard the telltale sound of a cloak dropping behind him and a blaster aimed straight at the back of his head.

"Does it matter really?" Hylo spoke in a nonchalant tone.

"No. I guess it doesn't. You're probably thinking that I'm an assassin. Well, let me tell you something."

The ghost sprang into action, swiftly turning and grabbing the arm holding the blaster and yanked it violently towards him. As expected, Hylo stumbled forward and the former agent jabbed a nerve with his other arm, causing the Mirialan to drop the blaster.

Almost immediately, he could feel her attempt to punch him in the face, but he quickly angled his right arm to block the punch in the nick of time before pushing her away about a foot with the palm of her left hand. It took Hylo only two seconds to regain her footing, but it was enough time for the ghost to quick-draw a sleek pistol.

The two stared at each other tensely until finally, the former agent chuckled and spoke, "If I was an assassin, you would've been dead the moment you walked out the door."

With that, he holstered his pistol.

"Who are you?" Hylo asked with just the slightest hint of disbelief at what just happened.

"That is a very complicated question to ask me," the ghost chuckled bitterly. "I don't have a name. At least... Not anymore anyways. You shouldn't be worrying about that."

"I should basically be worried about what you want from me." Hylo spat.

"Bingo," he replied amusingly as he snapped his fingers before turning serious. "I assume you've caught up on galactic history even though you were stuck in stasis for a decade?"

"How did you know I-"

"Just answer the question." the ghost cut her off.

Hylo sighed, "For the most part, yes I guess. Something about a tense peace between the Republic and the Empire-"

"Which eventually melted and now they're back at war," he finished. "And to answer the question on how I know, there are few things I don't know. Now, onto the reason on why I followed you."

The former agent pulled out a holocommunicator and tossed it after the Mirialan smuggler who caught it deftly and looked at it skeptically.

"I need your help," he explained. "That thing is so I can contact you. I'll most likely need you for jobs in the future. Of course, you'll be well-paid for your services should you accept."

"And if I decline?" Hylo asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Then we both simply walk away and go our separate ways," the ghost shrugged and turned to leave, but stopped within three footsteps. "I'll contact you in three weeks with details along with some money up front. If I'm unable to reach you, I will assume you declined."

He smirked, knowing that Hylo was debating whether or not to smash the holocommunicator into the ground. He walked off, but not before throwing one last thing.

"Oh, and tell Gault, or should I say, _Tyresius_ to give Skradin Alabaster my regards the next time you see him. He'll know who I am."

"What?" she looked up, but by the time she did, he was gone. He smirked. He really did enjoy toying with people's minds on some degree. She'll accept though, he knew that. The offer of money would be too tempting for her to turn down and he would offer a hefty amount up front. Trust would be a completely different matter, but that will be alright as he would not need her to trust him; he just needed her to do the job right.

Still, there always was the very small possibility she would decline. It was tiny, but it was still there. Whether or not the very first step of his plan will succeed however will depend on what happens three weeks from now. He _needed_ her skills. But she didn't need to know that.

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* * *

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The trip back to the specter's ship would've been rather uneventful if it wasn't for the feeling in his gut. He smirked. So, someone was following him. Now it was just a matter of whom. It certainly couldn't be Hylo; he had covered his tracks very well.

He began to walk off elsewhere, not wanting his hunter to discover where he had hidden his ship. His pursuer had to walk slightly faster to catch up. He blended in with the passing crowds as he walked and soon, they were in an area he intimately knew.

His eyes darted and he could make out his pursuer. Suddenly, two more men in the same clothes showed up. So, he had multiple hunters. Problematic, but not impossible to deal with.

Enough. It was time to dispose of them. He walked into a nearby alleyway and activated his cloaking device. Soon enough, his pursuers appeared with startled expressions on their face. He smirked. Instead of leaving however, they drew their blasters and unleashed a hail of blaster fire. The former agent was surprised, but he quickly took cover behind a nearby garbage bin. He winced soundlessly as one of the blaster bolts nearly nicked him. Just one little touch, and his device would cause him to pop out.

Very few people knew he used a cloaking device, but that's mainly because almost everyone he fought ended up dying at his hands. Whoever these assassins were, they were well-informed. That was never a good sign.

Apparently satisfied, they turned to leave. Big mistake. Quickly sneaking up behind the one in the very back, he plunged a shiv deep into him with one hand while covering his mouth with the other. His cloaking device deactivated from the attack, but he didn't care and twisted the weapon around. A muffled yelp escaped the man, but by the time the others turned around, he was already running into a door several meters away from the garbage bin.

The ghost turned around, watching as his pursuers struggled to catch up all the while firing blaster bolts at him. He grinned. _This_ was what he lived for. The thrills that came with being a spy. The adrenaline, the manipulation, the excitement. He enjoyed all of it.

_"Hah! You enjoy it all, don't you?" Hunter had said._

_"On some primitive level... Yes... Yes I do." he replied without smiling.  
_

He kept running through the storage area, occasionally knocking down shelves in order to slow his hunters down. He practically exploded from the door, knocking it over and startling the people outside. He ignored it and shoved through them, running to a nearby warehouse that he knew well... And had set up as a trap for enemies. As soon as he was safe inside with the doors locked, he let his adrenaline start wearing off. The grin slowly disappeared to be replaced by the stoic and meticulous calm he always projected. Slowly, he sat down in the middle of the room and began to meditate.

The warehouse was secure as always. He had filled it with various items that would give him an advantage in combat should he ever need to fight in here. Magnetic stabilizers for a intricate device he had bought on the black market once called the Magnetically Guided Grappling System, which allowed him to propel himself with it, durasteel containers filled with gasoline, various weapons hidden throughout the area, some elite battle droids equipped with deflector shields, and even a shelf of refined Corellian whiskey. You never know when that could come in handy.

It didn't take too long for his pursuers to finally find him, but they had taken long enough for him to gather his energy. As they burst through the door, he calmly stood up.

"You're late... I'm disappointed." he spoke without turning around.

His pursuers didn't reply so he turned around. He noticed Czerka colors on the two remaining men. His eyes flicked upward inside his helmet, noticing several shadowy presences on the upper level of the warehouses. More assassins.

"Czerka... And the Mecrosa Order... So... It seems the remaining leaders of the Star Cabal have found me and want to kill me. Amusing." the ghost smirked humorlessly.

"You're heavily outnumbered," one of the Czerka assassins spoke. "Time to die."

Slowly, the ghost began to laugh until it echoed off the walls of the entire building. It was a chilling, frightening laugh that promised nothing but absolute death. He could tell they were doing their very best not to be unnerved, but he could tell they were by the clenching of their fists. They _should_ be unnerved; a laugh from him was extremely rare and usually meant you were _screwed_.

"You've forgotten something about me," he chuckled. "One. I'm very resourceful."

His assassins drew their weapons and the shadows on the ceiling drew theirs as well. Swords or knives, judging by the shine. It didn't matter which.

"And two," he looked at them straight in the eye. "This is my territory. You won't be giving Sir Trilag and Yem Leksende my regards."

He sprung into action and they fired, but his target wasn't them. Instead, he dove for the light switch and stabbed it with one of his electric shivs, plunging the entire room into darkness. The only visible light came from the windows on the upper floor and the frenzied blaster fire of the Czerka assassins. The former agent activated his helmet's night vision.

As he stealthily climbed the ladder leading to the upper level, he could hear the sound of metal being thrown at him. Gritting his teeth, he let go and allowed himself to drop back to the bottom floor as daggers hit the area where he was. He would have to find another way up. Apparently the Mecrosa assassins could see in the dark as they moved to engaged him swiftly.

The ghost didn't have time for a fight with one of them, let alone six, and instead tossed a flashbang at them, temporarily blinding them and revealing his own position as it exploded. The Czerka assassins saw him and aimed their blasters, but he dodged until the darkness consumed the area again.

Running towards the deactivated battle droids he had stored here, he got behind one of them and flipped open a panel. Quickly, he crossed several circuits and the droid sprang to life, raising its blaster to engage the intruders. The specter repeated the process three more times and the droids proved to be an adequate distraction as he fired his MGGS at the stabilizer on the wall of the second floor and felt himself pulled upwards.

He ran while watching at the activity on the first floor. The Mecrosa assassins had already dispatched two of his droids with their lethal skills while Czerka were blasting away at one of them. He stopped by the shelf of whiskey, grinning, and grabbed a bottle before continuing on.

As the last droid fell, he was in position and flipped on the lights with the emergency switch located next to him. The assassins turned to the specter only to see him standing on a large crate, holding a rocket launcher with one hand and a bottle in the other.

"You only have one shot and it can't hit all of us." one of the Czerka assassins sneered as he aimed his blaster.

"I'm not aiming for you." the ghost grinned under his helmet.

He aimed directly down and the assassins' eyes followed to a durasteel container. With that, he fired and the recoil sent him flying backwards through the window behind him. He burst through it and landed in an alleyway. The rocket flew and hit the durasteel container which was filled with gasoline. The normally stoic Mecrosa assassins' eyes widened as fire began to burst from it and reach at the containers next to it.

Seconds later, explosions were heard and smoke filled the air. After a few more seconds, the entire warehouse _exploded_. Amidst the fire and smoke, one lone figure stood up.

The recoil from the rocket launcher had just barely sent the former agent away from the blast radius. He stared at the fire for a short time before smirking. Oh, how he loved his job. One warehouse for the most fun he has had in awhile. This called for a celebration. But first things first.

He set the bottle on the ground and took out a bit of durasheet from the back of his belt along with a pen. He quickly scribbled a message on it and dropped it onto the ground.

With business done, he picked up the whiskey, popped the bottle open and began to drink from it as he walked off.

_"Just another day in the life of a spy."_

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* * *

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"We should've sent more." a voice spoke.

"No worries, he won't escape again." another voice replied.

Two figures watched the fires slowly died down. As they did, something caught the eye of one of them and he walked over.

"Trilag? Where are you going?" the figure asked.

"Follow me, Leksende." Trilag replied.

The two walked into a nearby alleyway and they discovered what had caught Trilag's eye: a piece of durasheet undamaged from the flaming building. Leksende picked it up and he read it only for chills to run down his spine.

"What does it say?" the aged Mecrosa assassin asked.

"He... He has _it_." the Czerka executive shoved the note into Trilag before walking off.

Trilag grumbled and read the note. His eyes widened as he read and when he finished, he threw it on the ground before running to catch up to Leksende.

The note settled on the ground until wind kicked up and blew it into the wall, revealing its words.

I KNOW YOU'RE READING THIS. KNOW THAT I HAVE EYES AND EARS EVERYWHERE.

SOON, I WILL FIND YOU, AND NOTHING WILL SAVE YOU WHEN THAT DAY COMES.

IT'S ONLY A MATTER OF TIME, AND TIME IS TICKING FOR YOU.

BEWARE, FOR THE BLACK CODEX... IS MINE.

- A GHOST.


End file.
